Trapped
by blueblackangel
Summary: What was an essentially peaceful scientific mission turns into a battle of survival for Spock, McCoy, and other crew members when the team is attacked, and the Enterprise has some difficulties locating the away team.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Spock, McCoy, and some other crew members are captured while on a scientific mission on an unknown planet. Spock has to keep everyone alive long enough for the Enterprise to find them.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek.

Trapped  
Chapter One: Day Two

I watched Spock struggle feebly against the iron chains that bound his, all of ours actually, hands firmly against wall. We were all sitting in a row in a dark, soggy room with a dirt floor, dirty cement walls, and dirty bars that encased us. In the dim light, I could barely glimpse a green liquid trickling from Spock's wrists. I sighed despondently to myself. If Spock couldn't free himself, then the rest of us had no hope. I wanted to tell him to stop, but the words never came.

So, I turned to my left and observed the rest of the crew hostages. The other five—no, there were only four now, looked downright hopeless. One of two girls was crying to herself. A cadet, Cadet Rachel Willis. I wanted to comfort her, but what could I say that haven't said in the past two days? Don't worry, the captain will find us? Spock will free us? He hasn't even freed himself; his chances were slipping with each passing day.

No one has eaten in the past two days. Our captors haven't bothered to feed us.

Our captors. Boy, now there was some strange group. They could hardly be considered humanoid. They stood erect, had two arms, two legs, two eyes, two ears, and one, miniscule mouth. That's as far as similarities went. Differences? Well, they had a bluish, gray color skin, large, wide, bat-like ears; large, black, almost iris-less eyes. Their heads were misshapen (on human terms, according to Spock), almost thin and bulged at the same time, small mouths, no hair, and all together creepy looking. Not mention that they don't speak English or Vulcan, or anything close to any spoken language.

They clicked to each other. Clicked. Like dolphins. The hobgoblin thought it was _fascinating._

Well, that's fine for you; the CMO thinks it's annoying. That means we can't even _beg_ for food. Apparently, they can't make the sounds necessary to speak our language, nor we theirs. Not even Lt. Uhura would be of much use here.

Spock suddenly froze. I swear, I thought his ears quivered for a moment. "They're coming," he announced. I sighed, slightly audible this time. The rest of the crew hostages quietly panicked. Spock looked toward them (he was on the far end), and said, "Do not give them any reason to hurt or kill you, understood?"

"Yes, sir," they answered, clear and crisp. Spock looked to me; I gave him my consent, and stared pointedly at his wrists. He glanced at his wrists, then sharply turned at a sound so faint I could hardly hear.

Then the sounds became louder, several different footsteps coming toward us. Willis whimpered. Spock sat rigid. The others shivered. I took a deep breath…

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It was supposed to be a peaceful mission. It was supposed to be scientific. Capture was not supposed to be a possibility. We were studying the soil, the air, the water. We weren't disrupting anyone. At least, we had no intention of disrupting anyone.

I had told Spock that the water was unusually rich in nutrients. Could humans drink it, Spock had asked. Then he turned, hearing something that we couldn't hear. "I think we're being watched," he had said solemnly. "Oh?" I had asked, not wanting to alarm our five companions, Cadet Rachel Willis, Cadet Robert Watson, Biologist Carmen Rodriguez, Lt. Christopher Rogers, and Geologist Antonio D'Anzi.

"Doctor," was all he could say to me before getting hit with a dart in the neck. He fell unconscious. "Spock!" I had shouted, and I had barely confirmed that he was still alive before feeling a prick in the neck, then I felt nothing.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Those ugly, slimy aliens were here. 'What do you want?!' I wanted to scream at them. But I couldn't say anything. I couldn't do anything. I just sat there as three of four Clickers (we named them the Clickers for simplicity's sake) knelt before Spock, while the other watched us. Clicker 1 took out a syringe, stuck in Spock's neck, and withdrew some blood. Clicker 2 got a flashlight and flashed it in Spock's eyes. Clicker 3 just watched, probably observing the whole procedure. All the while they clicked to each other, and to my irritation, it sounded like playful dolphins just swimming underwater. Spock remained still, eyes focused on Clicker 3 and occasionally flickering to Clicker 4.

They finished with Spock and then did the same procedure to me. I breathed hard through my nose, struggling to remain calm. I glanced to Spock whose unwavering gaze watched the whole thing. I hated how they took my blood. I hated how they flashed that stupid flashlight in my eyes. I hated that one just watching. I channeled all the hate, and managed not to squirm at all.

Nothing particularly eventful happened to the others, until the Clickers arrived to Willis. She shook with so much intensity that I struggled hard against my bonds. I had to help her. She was crying, not hysterically thank goodness, when they examined her. Clicker 4 suddenly looked angry, and grabbed a black bat from the inside of his black robe (they all had black robes).

"Cadet!" said Spock sharply, "You will desist crying right now; that is an order." The Clickers looked at Spock; Clicker 3 looked especially interested. "Cadet," repeated Spock, his voice softer, and ignoring the Clickers, "You have to be calm. It is better to not cry. Crying does not mean the same thing to the aliens as it does to humanoids."

Willis meekly nodded and pulled herself together. "Yes, sir," she managed to say. Clicker 3 clicked something to Clicker 4 and Clicker 4 put the bat away.

"It'll be okay, Cadet," I added much softer than Spock, "Just let them examine you and they'll go away. We're not going to let anything bad happen to you. I promise." I inwardly winced, remembering Lt. Christopher Rogers. "I promise," I said again, more to myself than Willis.

Soon, they finished examining her, and three of the Clickers left. Clicker 3 stayed behind and looked at Spock. Spock stared back evenly in return. He clicked something at Spock, and then left.

"What was that all about?" I asked, feeling angry and relieved that the ordeal was over.

"I do not know," said Spock quietly, "But I do know that they are very curious about us."

"What do you mean?" asked Geologist D'Anzi. D'Anzi, a young, cool-headed man, was bound between Biologist Rodriguez and Cadet Watson. I was on Rodriguez's right; D'Anzi sat on her left. Willis sat on the left of Watson.

"They did not harm us; they took our blood," clarified Spock distractedly. I knew something was on his mind, the encounter with Clicker 3.

"That could mean they're using our blood to test poisons or something," Watson practically snarled. Spock craned his neck past myself, Rodriguez and D'Anzi to chastise him silently.

"If they wished to kill us, they would have done so at the time they killed Lt. Rogers," stated Spock, with no trace of emotion. Stupid, emotionless hobgoblin. Couldn't he just act like it was tough to watch? I looked at Watson; apparently he was thinking the same thing, and it showed on his face. "But since they did not, I hypothesize that they are curious of us." Spock turned to me, "Doctor, was not some of the procedure similar to our own when we discover a new species?"

I was still angry about the whole thing. About the Clickers coming in, taking blood, almost hitting Willis with a bat, about Spock and his zero tolerance of emotions, so it took me a few seconds to process his question, and a few more to answer it. I had to hand to Spock; he had a point.

"Some were, yes," I said slowly, "But we never chain new, obviously intelligent species to wall in a prison and kill one of them. That's cold and sadistic," I added.

"Lt. Rogers died because he provoked them and tried to attack them. They, obviously completely unaware of our abilities and intentions, reacted in self-preservation."

"Are you trying to rationalize Rogers's death?!"

"Not at all," said Spock, "It is wrong that he died; there are other ways he could have been restrained. However, if we wish to communicate with these creatures—"

"Or escape," piped in Watson.

"You will not interrupted me again, Cadet," said Spock sternly, "As I was saying, if we wish to communicate or escape, we must learn everything there is learn about them. We must be acquainted with their schedules, lifestyles, and especially weaknesses."

In that case, "What about Clicker 3?" I asked.

Spock considered his answer. "I am not sure, but Clicker 3 is the most compassionate of the four."

"What makes you say that?" asked D'Anzi with honest curiosity.

"He is the most curious."

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Well, I think I might stop here. So, any thoughts, questions, comments, or criticism? In case you didn't catch on, this story will be told, for the most part, strictly in Dr. McCoy's POV. I've just realized I didn't really mention the Enterprise. Don't worry, now that I've written it down, I will for sure remember for next chapter. Don't worry, I do have a plot in mind.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Now, we begin Chapter 2 of Trapped. I still don't own Star Trek. But I will own the DVD when it comes out.

Trapped

Chapter 2: Open to Communication

Day Three. The Clickers came in yesterday, a few hours after they took our blood, and gave us water, and a chance to use the bathroom. That was only time the Clickers let us out, to use the bathroom. I mean it's not much, but it's better than soiling ourselves. My stomach growled. It made me angry.

I looked up and around. Spock had finally decided to sleep; he shook every so often. It was from the cold (it wasn't terribly cold to humans, but for Spock, it was a different story). I knew that he purposely tried not to shiver in front of everyone. I also knew that if Spock didn't eat soon, put on some extra fat and calories, it would only get worse.

Everyone else was still sleeping from the night before. Where was Jim? I thought, where is the Enterprise? Why aren't they swooping down here in some dramatic, yet heroic fashion to save us? Did they just not care?

No, I scolded myself, that's not true. If I knew Jim, then he would be almost frantic with worry. He hated losing crew members, even if he didn't know their names, he hated it nonetheless. I remembered Sulu saying something was interfering with the scanners, making it difficult to pick up life forms, and then distinguish the life forms if they were picked up at all. Spock and Chekov both confirmed Sulu.

I happened to be looking toward Spock when I saw an ear quiver to life before he opened his tired eyes. "Are they coming?" I asked. Spock nodded, sitting up straighter.

"Everyone," said Spock addressing, well, everyone, "Wake up. They will be here shortly."

Those Vulcan ears really do come in handy, I thought as everyone roused themselves from sleep. Willis looked petrified, then again she almost always looked petrified.

"Do not provoke them," instructed Spock again.

"I'm scared!" squeaked Willis. I thought she was going to hyperventilate.

"Fear is not an ally here," said Spock firmly, "Fear leads to irrational, unpredictable behavior. They will not tolerate that."

"Commander Spock's right," said Rodriguez, "It'll be okay. We just have to act calmly."

"Maybe there's some Vulcan in you," snarled Watson, "'Cause, apparently _you_ can turn off your emotions like _him,_ but the _rest of us_ can't simply stop being afraid."

"On the contrary, Cadet," said Spock calmly, "One is trained to overcome fear in Starfleet Academy, especially if the cadet wishes to serve on board a starship."

Suddenly, everyone froze. The clicks were very audible and very near.

"Oh God, what do they want?" whimpered Willis.

No one answered her. They were here, all four of them. They looked at all of us, before Clicker 3 pointed to Spock. Then, they all looked at Spock. He didn't flinch. They entered our cell and knelt before Spock. Then something different happened. Clicker 3 pulled out some keys and began to unlock Spock's chains. Spock locked his eyes with Clicker 3 and stared with great concentration and intensity.

With one loud 'click,' Spock's right arm fell loosely in front of him. Aware that the other three were watching, Spock slightly twitched his arm. Every Clicker except 3, started at the movement, but Spock remained focused on Clicker 3. He slowly and carefully lifted his hand, and in an even slower movement, rested his fingers against what might be the temples of Clicker 3. The other Clickers reacted almost violently, but Clicker 3 held up his arm to stop them. Spock, meanwhile, took a deep breath, and repositioned his fingers.

A Vulcan mind-meld, I thought. I looked over to the others and smiled to assure them that all was well.

"Our minds are one," said Spock, but he sounded distant. "Our thoughts are one. We think as one. We feel as one. I know what you know…" It occurred to me that Spock might have been saying that for our benefit.

His eyes were wide open as he watched something far away. His fingers moved away from Clicker 3's temples and began to probe other parts of the alien's head. Occasionally, Spock's facial expression changed, but the emotions he conveyed made no sense. He was happy, frustrated, curious, and more. It was the Clicker's emotions. Clicker 3 shared these emotions with Spock, but Clicker 3 showed something more, a sense of hopelessness and helplessness spread in its face. I also saw physical hunger, thirst, cold. It was what Spock was feeling, what Spock had been feeling all along, and what Spock perceived we were feeling, because Clicker 3 occasionally looked very scared.

Then, Spock severed the connection. He blinked and moved his hand away; his face was completely neutral. Clicker 3 panted for a bit, and then excitedly unlocked the iron chain holding Spock's other hand. The alien clicked something to the others and they proceeded to unlock our restraints. Clicker 3 looked at Spock and bade the other Clickers out of the cell. They locked the cell and we were left alone.

"They will be back with more water," said Spock, his voice distant. He looked lost in thought, then he decided with a smile in his eyes (not that Spock would ever admit to that) "Fascinating."

I smiled at him; I almost laughed. Of course it was fascinating. Why wouldn't it be fascinating? I mean, they only captured us, killed one of our men, and failed to feed us. And they speak in dolphin. It's very fascinating, Mr. Spock.

"Doctor," began Spock, "I have learned something most interesting and disturbing."

"What might that be?" I asked sarcastically.

I don't think Spock noticed the sarcasm, or if he did, he ignored it. "They do not eat food as we know it."

I was actually pretty curious. "What do you mean?"

"They receive all their necessary nutrients from the water and the soil."

"What?"

"They do not eat our food. They do not even have our food. They do not know what it is or how to prepare it."

It took everything I had not to panic. "Do you know the chemical composition of the soil?" I was surprised at how calm my voice sounded.

"They will provide me with that information soon," answered Spock.

"Wait," said Watson, "You mean to tell me that even if they wanted to feed us, they couldn't?"

"Essentially, yes."

"We're going to starve to death?" he asked, his voice raising an octave.

"Not necessarily," said Spock, "That outcome depends on several factors."

"Like the chemical composition of the soil," said D'Anzi, "We might be able to grow something."

"Or we may be able to ingest it and take in some nutrients," I said.

"We could eat the dirt?" asked Willis, considerably calmer than before.

"Maybe. No one's going to eat the dirt until I say so. Understood? It could be deadly to us. We'll die of a disease faster than we'll starve to death," I said seriously. There was a chorus of "Yes sir" in reply. I rubbed my wrists and looked at Spock. Spock was deep in thought. Soon, he noticed me watching him.

"Do you need something, Doctor?" he asked.

"No, not right now," I replied, "You need to sleep tonight."

"Doctor—"

"No. While I'm still Chief Medical Officer, your health is my responsibility."

"Then you understand as Commanding Officer, your safety is mine."

"Spock, you can't keep us safe if you don't get proper rest. Let D'Anzi or myself keep watch tonight. If the Clickers like you, then we won't have to worry."

Spock looked at me solemnly. "Doctor, what would you say if I told you these Clickers are hiding?"

"Hiding? Hiding from what?" I asked.

"I do not know. Clicker 3's thoughts were too terrified and emotional for me to make sense of them. I will ask him during the next mind-meld."

"The _next_ mind-meld?"

"Of course. How else are we to communicate with them?"

"That's right," I sighed. There was something I didn't like about Spock mind-melding multiple times with these aliens. I wasn't too familiar with the Vulcan mind-meld, but I knew Spock has only done so when left with no other practical alternative. The mind-meld was not done lightly. So, performing it multiple times like this can't be good, right? Spock's solemn silence confirmed my suspicions.

I had to think about something else. Obviously, Spock's mind was made up and Vulcans are known to be as stubborn as they are logical. So, I thought about something else. My stomach growled. I groaned. Food, right, damn. I can't believe I wasn't thinking about it before. Well, I was wondering if the Clickers were going to kill us all _before_ we had the chance to starve to death. Since now I know that starving to death is a very real possibility, I could spare some thought on food.

Where is Jim when you need him?

"Mr. Spock?" asked Rodriguez, "Why did they let us go? Did you ask them?"

Spock nodded, "Yes, lieutenant, I did ask them. They let us go because I told them we would not harm them, and I would stop you from harming them." He looked like he was going to stop, but perceiving our confusion he continued, "They never wanted to harm us. They wanted to study us. They had never seen any humanoid creature before."

"If they never wanted to harm us, why did they kill Lt. Rogers?" asked Watson. That cadet had an attitude that I didn't like at all.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the question. Didn't we talk about this yesterday? "They killed him," said Spock, "Because he tried to hurt them. Then they chained us to the wall as a direct result of his actions."

"I don't like this," muttered Watson, "I don't like this at all."

"Join the club," I muttered back. I looked to Spock, "What else did you learn?" We had all formed a loose circle at this point. Everyone was sitting Indian style, except D'Anzi who stood up to stretch his limbs.

"They are auditory-oriented," said Spock, "Their eyes are only big to help them see. This planet is dark most of the time, damp as well. Clicker 3 knows the sounds of our names and I know theirs. They are very intellectual; though overall their technology is the equivalent of late 20th Century Earth. And they are not the only intelligent creatures on this planet."

"Well, the other creatures can't be humanoid," said D'Anzi, "What are they?"

"Are the Clickers hiding from these other creatures?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, the Clickers are hiding from these creatures, but they have yet to describe them to me," replied Spock

"Even with the physic thing you were doing with it?" asked Willis.

"Touch-telepathy," corrected Spock, "On Vulcan, we call it a mind-meld. But, no, Clicker 3 purposely chose not think about it. So I didn't think about it."

"Weird," muttered Watson.

"So, what do we have to worry about more?" asked Rodriguez, "The other creatures or food?"

Spock said nothing for a long time. Then he finally said, "I cannot tell you. There are not enough facts."

The Clickers came with much more water than they had in the past. Clicker 3 approached Spock and touched his head. Spock shook his head, silently telling him that it wasn't the right time to perform another mind-meld. Clicker 3 clicked something low and almost mournful and crouched down beside Spock. From the previous mind-meld I knew that Spock was tired and needed sleep; it showed on the Clicker's face.

"Spock," I said using my CMO voice, "Drink the water and sleep. Don't do another mind-meld yet."

"Doctor, I am quite all right," reprimanded Spock.

"No, you're not. You haven't slept as much as the others or drank as much. You'll feel physically better. And don't give me any of that Vulcan crap." I paused, finding the right words, "We need you, Spock. We need you well. If we're ever going to get out of this, we'll need your leadership, Spock. Tell Clicker 3 to wait a day. I'm sure they can spare one day."

Spock raised both his eyebrows. "All right, Doctor." He briefly touched Clicker 3 on the arm, and then quickly broke the connection. Clicker 3 clicked something to himself. He then clicked something to the others and they left. Clicker 3 looked at Spock before leaving himself.

"They won't be back until tomorrow," said Spock.

"Then get some sleep," I said softly.

"I believe I will, Doctor." Then he added so softly that I could hardly hear him, "Thank you."

I heard Spock walk away from the group in a corner somewhere and settle down. "It's going to take all of us to get out of here," I said to the group, "Spock's resting now, but everyone needs to be as healthy as possible, and we all need to support each other and Mr. Spock. Understood?"

"Yes sir," they answered firmly.

I sighed to myself, hoping that we can get back to the Enterprise. _Where are you Captain?_

&&&&

Personal log:

I watched the captain pace on the bridge all shift. He was very anxious. Long range scanners and short range scanners revealed nothing. It's been three days since we heard from the landing party. The captain mentioned a search party on the planet itself. It's a big planet, I told him. The captain looked at me. Then, he told me, we should get started right away.

We did not send any search parties. We would wait until the scanners proved useful.

I am completely exhausted. I will continue my personal log later, Sulu out.

* * *

_That's chapter 2! Yay! I just had to show that the Kirk does care, and this saves me from explaining what the Enterprise was doing at the end. _

_Please review; I do enjoy hearing your thoughts as they are very important to me. I thank all those that did review and I'm sorry that I did not respond personally to your reviews, but please know it is appreciated. Also, thank you to those you have put this story on Story Alert and Favorites. That means a lot, too._


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Star Trek

Trapped

Chapter 3: Complications

If we don't get off this planet soon, Willis will develop some sort of psychological disorder. She sleeps less than Spock, she fidgets at every sound, she cries randomly throughout the day, and I caught her trying to eat the dirt. I'm glad I stopped her in time. She would have become severely ill. (Spock had received the chemical composition of the soil from Clicker 3; long story short, the human digestive track cannot handle the soil. I wasn't completely sure about Spock, but he had told me that he won't eat it either).

We were kept in the same cell, but the Clickers have furnished it with several very warm, fluffy blankets, a lamp, and our communicators, which weren't much use to us. They were broken practically beyond repair. Spock, who is still trying to fix the communicators, said that even if we did fix them, it wouldn't guarantee that we could hail the Enterprise.

That stupid Cadet Watson thought that that was completely unacceptable. Spock was the Science Officer and First Officer; he should have had the communicators working hours ago. And I was the Chief Medical Officer; I should have somehow changed the chemical composition of the soil and made it edible for humans. It's all our fault, and he's damn right. When it comes down to it, it will be all my fault and Spock's fault and the Captain's while I'm at it. Rubbing my eyes in frustration, I found myself wishing, again, that Spock would give him the Vulcan Nerve Pinch. But since Spock saw absolutely no logic in attacking a cadet, he never did. (But I bet a hundred credits that Spock secretly wanted to).

True to their word, the Clickers stayed away for about twelve hours. Everyone, including myself, finally got sufficient rest. I figured that this was as sharp as we'll ever be. The physiological effects of starvation are becoming too apparent. We needed food. The highly nutritious water was the only thing keeping us alive. We had to devise a way to get off this planet _now_. I looked to Spock, now sitting crossed-legged, eyes closed, and hands resting in his lap. I had a feeling that he realized this, too.

"Spock," I said quietly, not wanting the others to overhear. Spock opened his eyes and looked at me. "How are our chances of getting out of here?"

"With the Enterprise, I would say 12.4 percent," he answered just as softly. I didn't want to ask him what our chances were without the Enterprise. "Maybe less," he added, his tone utterly emotionless. It bothered me a bit, but I ignored it. I could argue with him when we're back on the Enterprise.

"I'm hungry," groaned Cadet Watson.

"We all are," shot back D'Anzi. He, too, was annoyed with Watson, "Deal with it."

"I am dealing with it," argued Watson, "Excuse me for not being as trained as _you_ are, Lieutenant."

"As a cadet, you are expected to take orders from superior officers," said Spock sternly, breaking up the fight, "I will not tolerate anything that diminishes crew morale, is that understood?"

"Yes sir," they all said. Watson glared at Spock; Spock stared back. Somehow Spock's emotionless stare was more incredible than Watson's angry one.

"Commander Spock?" asked Rodriguez. Spock waited for her to talk. "How are we getting off this planet? Or at least contacting the Enterprise for food and supplies?"

Spock's eyes narrowed in thought. "I will ask the Clickers if we are able to use their radio. If I can find the right frequency, then we might be able to contact the Enterprise."

"What about the interference?" asked D'Anzi.

"Perhaps we will be fortunate," replied Spock, "If not, then the chances of escaping this planet are astronomically low."

It must be pretty low if Spock didn't give an exact percentage. No one asked the next question: What if we can't escape? No one wanted to hear the answer: We would all starve to death.

&&&

Personal Log:

Today, the captain got a message from Starfleet. Starfleet sympathizes with our loss, but advises that we give up the search. They have another mission for us: an Earth ambassador and diplomat needs to get to Starbase 13 to settle some disputes and major factions. The captain asked if it was imperative. He said that he was not going to leave his crew alone on some God-forsaken planet. He was their captain and they needed him. Starfleet said that the matter was of utmost importance. Couldn't they get another ship? No, the Enterprise was the only one in that sector. Can't it wait, the captain asked.

It could wait five days. No more.

The transmission ended. Lt. Uhura looked worried, but not as worried as the captain. He turned to Scotty. Is there any way to fix the scanners, he asked. Scotty had said the planet needs fixin', not the scanners.

I must go now; we are going to reprogram some scanners in hopes of reading life forms, Sulu out.

&&&

The damn clicking won't go away. Spock was performing another mind-meld with Clicker 3. They seemed to have a lot to say to each other. The mind-meld's been going on for almost five minutes.

The other Clickers wanted to come, too, perhaps to check on their comrade. But did they have to always click to each other? I'm going to hate dolphins by the time we get out of this, assuming that we would get out of this.

"Its sounds so cute," said Rodriguez, beaming at the noise, "It makes me think of dolphins."

"It makes me think of fish," shrugged D'Anzi. "I really want some fish."

"Don't think about it as fish; think of it as dolphins playing underwater," she said.

"Playing underwater with fish."

"Tony…"

"Carmen… Let me think of it as dolphins tearing a pathetic fish limb by limb and eating it, and you can think of it as playful dolphins," he said.

"You're impossible," she muttered.

"I'm hungry."

"So am I, but I'm thinking about the dolphins."

"Are you sure you're not thinking about eating them?"

SMACK!

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his arm, "I'll try to think of the dolphins, too…"

"You'll be happier," she promised giddily.

_I _was still thinking about food. I tried to distract myself. D'Anzi and Rodriguez were sitting a meter or two away from us (I was the closest to Spock and Clicker 3) talking about dolphins. The cadets were…Where were the cadets? Ah, I see them. They're huddled in a corner, keeping as much distance as possible between themselves and the Clickers. I had no clue what they were talking about. I briefly considered the possibilities…and quickly decided that I was better off not knowing.

A steak with mashed potatoes sounded great right about now…

SLAP!

I had to slap myself to snap out of it. But I think I snapped Spock and Clicker 3 out of it, too, because both were staring at me, the former with one raised eyebrow.

"I'm fine," I told them, "Don't mind me; I'm…fine," I finished lamely. But it was enough for Spock, so he reinitiated the mind-meld and, I assume, told Clicker 3 all about it. I decided to distract myself by trying to decipher the Clickers' language.

* * *

Needless to say, I didn't get too far. The Clickers left us alone, and Spock sat cross legged afterwards, thinking. I wondered what he was thinking about, and I wondered if Spock had gotten permission to use their radio. He just seemed really deep in thought.

"Mr. Spock?" asked Willis meekly.

Spock blinked and focused his eyes. "Yes?"

"Can we use their radios to contact the Enterprise?"

Everyone scooted closer to Spock; Spock didn't move.

"I can," said Spock, "I will attempt to contact the Enterprise tomorrow. It is almost time for the Clickers to sleep now."

"What else did they tell you?" I asked.

"They told me about the other inhabitants," said Spock, "The others are cannibalistic."

Everyone stared, utterly speechless.

"Cannibalistic?" Watson repeated, "Cannibalistic?"

"I believe I said that," remarked Spock, "The cannibals have a remarkable sense of smell. The Clickers will soon change their location. Their instruments have detected the cannibal activity a little ways from here."

"You don't have an exact distance?" asked D'Anzi.

"No. Neither do the Clickers, however neither species behaves nocturnally."

"What will happen?" whimpered Willis, shaking.

"The only thing of which I am certain is that I will attempt to contact the Enterprise."

"Will we die?" she whispered.

"Death is as certain a possibility as survival," said Spock. "Even though the odds are against us, I have noted that the Enterprise crew has to uncanny ability to endure fatal and spectacular events."

I smiled to myself. Even though Spock didn't say it, I knew that logic and experience were clashing within him. Logic dictates we will die, yet experience tells him that we will survive. Spock is hoping.

After a few more minutes of talking, everyone went off on their own. I wandered toward Spock.

"Spock, personally, what do you think?" I asked.

"Doctor," said Spock solemnly, "If I can even achieve one way communication with the Enterprise our chances of survival increase significantly. If not, we will die."

"Can you achieve one way communication?"

"I believe I can, Doctor," said Spock with the smallest hint of a smirk in his voice.

* * *

_I am so, so, so sorry it took me this long. I would burdon you with excuses and rationalizations, but it wouldn't make much of a difference. So, I'm sorry again._

_But on the other hand: Go Spock! _

_Please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own it…

Trapped

Chapter 4: The Inconveniences of One Way Radio and Cannibals

My stomach growled painfully and pathetically. I've never been so hungry in my life; I've never been so fixated on food before, actually I've never been fixated on anything of this intensity. Since this was the fourth time I've woken up, I decided that sleep was pointless, even though it was still pitch black outside. I glanced around everyone else. The women were sleeping side by side and the men had unconsciously shifted closer together in the middle of the night. I frowned as I observed Spock. I had sensed him shivering a bit during the night, but now watching him, I would be surprised if he didn't develop hypothermia. Everyone was distinctly thinner, and it sent a shiver up my spine.

'_Hang in there'_ I thought to all of them _'Just a little while longer, you'll see. Spock will radio the Enterprise, she'll get our location, and Jim will get us out of here. Just hang in there, guys…'_

Spock stirred. Slowly, he forced himself into a sitting position. He shook slightly and caught my eye in surprise.

"Dr. McCoy," he said, "I did not realize you were awake at this time."

"Good morning to you, too," I grumbled. I'm way too hungry for social interaction. I watched Spock scoot backwards until he hit the wall, then he leaned back against it. "Are you okay?" I asked, the CMO inside about to emerge.

Spock must have sensed it, too, because he answered quickly, "I am quite well, Doctor, under the circumstances." He quietly took in a deep breath.

"You sure?"

Spock stared at me. I stared back, but now from a doctor perspective. He was thinner and paler. Dark circles hung under his eyes. He was absolutely exhausted despite the sleep he got last night. I caught Spock's eyes and thought, maybe for only a nanosecond, that Spock's eyes conveyed worry. I wondered what I must look like. I subconsciously scratched my face, feeling a few days worth of stubble on it.

"Doctor, I will make the radio work," said Spock quietly. Hearing that, hearing his quiet determination, it made me feel lighter and, dare I say it, hopeful. I realized that that was just what I needed to hear.

"I'm hungry," I blurted out. I have no idea why I said it, but it just came out. Spock nodded as he expected as much. He leaned his head back against the wall, resting, even though he just woke up. It broke me to see how tired he was, and it amazed me that he hid it from the rest of the crew all the time. I looked at the others. Just to think, Spock still isn't showing any emotion; what will it be like looking at the rest of the crew when they woke up? I swallowed painfully thinking about it.

"Spock," I said, "We have to make this work."

"I concur, Doctor," he answered. He closed his eyes; he seemed to be listening. "I trust that you will inform the crew of where I am, should they wake after I leave."

"Of course. Do you hear something?"

Spock thought carefully before answering; he kept his eyes closed. "I am not certain. It is extremely faint, almost too faint to hear."

I nodded in understanding. Seeing how thin Spock and the rest of the crew were made me hungry. "If we only had food…just one meal…Spock, do you realize what the difference would mean?"

He gave one curt nod. Suddenly and quite randomly, he opened his eyes, sat up straighter and immediately gained an extremely alert, not-one-to-be-messed-with, and typical Vulcan appearance. He looked much more formidable than he had a few moments before. I assumed that the Clickers were on their way, and my assumptions were proved correct when I saw Spock stand up and when I heard the familiar clicks of strange inhabitants on this alien planet. "Good luck," I muttered, certain that he would be able to hear it.

* * *

"What's taking so long?" asked Watson. I glared at him. Could he do any better job than Spock? I don't think so. I know I can't.

"Shut up and drink the water," I said, "That's an order."

"You're a doctor," he countered, angrily. Willis, wide-eyed, grabbed the sleeve of his uniform in an attempt to quiet her fellow cadet.

"I am your senior officer and you will do as I say, understand?" _'Wow, I kind of sounded like Spock right there,'_ I mused distractedly.

Watson glared at me and I ignored him. I didn't have enough energy to spare for him. I had to conserve my energy; I'm the doctor. If the crew started showing odd symptoms I had to be there for them and be ready to help them. It was my duty, and the only thing making me feel important. I glanced at D'Anzi and Rodriguez who quietly sat and observed the battle of wits. They had finished their glasses of water. I felt a twinge of misplace guilt when I looked into their eyes, which held both fear and hopelessness. I knew it wasn't my fault they were hungry, but I still felt responsible for them. _'Pull yourself together, McCoy; you have to be the strong one here. You're the CMO for Christ sakes!'_

* * *

Personal log:

Something interesting has happened on the bridge about an hour ago. Lt. Uhura, who before idly listened in the earpiece, suddenly jumped and nearly fell out of her chair. The Captain looked real worried and asked if she was okay.

"I'm getting a transmission, from the planet." She sounded as though she could not believe her ears. "It's…it's faint; there's a lot of interference, but I think…" She didn't tell us what she thought, but her fingers were flying across her console, making adjustments to her instruments. Her hands stopped moving suddenly and she listened. The Captain, who had been anxious the whole time, asked her to put it on audio. She did, but she warned us that the quality was bad. The Captain didn't care, and he and the rest of us listened to the transmission. It was a number of clicks or beeps, I'm not sure which, but it had a distinct pattern. It kind of reminded me of Morse Code.

"Is that Morse Code?" asked the Captain, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and surprise. I'm not sure which was more prominent on his face, but I remembered he looked relieved. Morse Code was invented on Earth; logic dictates that it is most likely a human, right? I wish Spock were here.

Anyway, Lt. Uhura had a very concentrated look to her face as she interpreted the code. She looked angry. It was the interference, she said, it's making it hard to make out the message. The Captain asked if we could pinpoint the source. Scotty and Chekhov were already on it.

"SOS…food…no food," Lt. Uhura had said, "Bad communication…aliens…cannibals are…SOS." The transmission ended. We all looked at Captain Kirk. He had no expression on his face, but only said that we had better get to work on pinpointing a source. Oh, I see the computer has finished pinpointing or attempting to pinpoint a source. I have to go. After all we only have four more days left, Sulu out.

* * *

That annoying clicking sound was the only thing that distracted me from my obsession with food. I felt a little guilty for not talking about something totally random, just to get everyone's minds off of food, but hell, I was hungry! And that damn clicking was getting louder.

Wait, the clicking meant that the Clickers were returning and hopefully with Spock as well. I looked up, but the light wasn't much brighter. It actually was never too bright on this planet.

"Mr. Spock!" someone shouted, breaking up my thoughts, for which I was entirely grateful. I looked up to see the Vulcan walk in the cell, and I could see something in his eyes, but I didn't know what. The Clickers left and left the door open.

"Cadet Willis," greeted Spock emotionlessly. He looked around the room and called everyone to attention. "We will have to move. The Clickers have tracked the cannibals moving quickly to this vicinity."

Everyone gaped openly. We probably looked like fish out of water, but I didn't care. Did Spock just say the cannibals were coming?

Spock took a deep breath. "Everyone follow me. That is an order."

"Spock," I gasped, finally finding my voice, "You can't just say something like that and expect us to be hunky-dory with it!"

"Hunky-dory?" inquired Spock with a raised eyebrow.

"Never mind. But you can't just spring something like that on us. Give us some time to process the information."

"What about the Enterprise?" asked D'Anzi. "Did you contact them? Could they beam us up?"

"I was able to achieve a very limited one way radio frequency. However, due to the interference on this planet, I estimate it will take some time before the Enterprise can pinpoint our location."

"You don't think we have enough time?" asked Rodriguez coolly, as if she were storing away all emotion and waiting to deal with it later. Not a bad idea, Biologist.

"From the information I was able to gather from the Clickers combined with the knowledge of the ship's capabilities, I estimate no."

"The Enterprise probably left by now," grumbled Watson glumly.

I could have punched him. I wanted to punch him, but I didn't. I wasn't sure if I regretted it or not. Everyone was just as speechless, including Spock, who didn't gape openly with an astonished look on his face like the rest of us, but he said nothing. That idiot just brought out everyone's worse fears and dragged it in our faces. Spock had said it last night; the Enterprise was our only hope. I should just punch him and get it over with. Rotten bastard. How dare he suggest that Jim wasn't looking for us?! He had to be looking for us! That just wasn't Jim not to look for someone missing. Watson has to be wrong.

However, Spock recovered the quickest. "If you believe that is the case then your choices are to face death by cannibalism or ward off death a short time longer with the possibility of escaping from this planet. However, I will _not_ tolerate _anything_ that diminishes crew morale, is that clear, Cadet?"

"You heartless son of bitch!" Watson cried, surprising all of us. "We're going to die; we're gonna die; we're gonna die-"

"If we stay here, then we will die," said Spock, unaffected by the whimpering and near hysteria threatening to break loose from the young man. We heard the clicking and a moment later the clicks came back. All fours Clickers came in with bulgy sacks on their back. They clicked expectantly at Spock, and Spock looked to us. "Are you ready?"

D'Anzi and Rodriguez sat up the quickest and walked to their commander with the Clickers. Willis looked back at Watson and to Spock. Watson had curled into a fetal position, whimpering to himself. "Go with them," I grumbled and sitting up myself, I made my way toward Watson and tried to uncurl him, but he had more strength than I thought. I looked to Spock for help. Spock nodded, walked over here and with ease uncurled Watson. Together, Spock and I held Watson up, since he apparently lost all desire for conscious movement. Spock nodded to the Clickers and we began moving.

Spock, Watson and I stayed toward the back of the group with Clicker 3. The Clickers led the way out the cell and down a darkening hallway. The walls seemed concrete or the Earth equivalent. I didn't see too many lights, but the Clickers in the front took out something like a huge, bright flashlight which illuminated the whole hallway. Nothing decorated the walls. Soon the hallway led to an exit and we walked outside. I breathed in deeply, thoroughly enjoying the outside air, even though it wasn't Earth and even though I was still half carrying Watson out. It wasn't much brighter outside, but I assumed by the setting sun that it must be close to dusk. I looked behind us and almost laughed to myself. We were being kept in a warehouse looking building. It sounded absurd, like something that only happens on TV. You know, the ones where the good guys always find the bad guys in a warehouse. I smiled grimly to myself. That wouldn't be the case time. Anyway, the warehouse seemed to be on the very edge of a city. We were walking on a dirty, damp trail surrounded by the most exotic, dark colored plants I've ever seen. The CMO in me wanted to take a sample of all these plants back to the ship, but I knew I couldn't grab one now. Maybe later.

We make our way to something that looks like a late 20th century Earth American automobile, hidden in camouflage. Obviously, the Clickers knew that their visit to this warehouse would be short. The car was painted dark blue, and then I noticed there were two of them, identical. Obviously the sedan-like car was not big enough to fit all of us in one. Clicker 3 looked at Spock expectantly, and Spock closed his eyes and obliged Clicker 3 with a mind meld.

Spock soon broke off the mind meld, and turned to face us while Clicker 3 faced the rest of the Clickers. Spock and the Clicker spoke at the same time.

"We propose that Cadet Watson, Dr. McCoy, myself, Clickers 3 and 4 will ride in the second car, and Geologist D'Anzi, Biologist Rodriguez, Cadet Willis, Clickers 1 and 2 will ride in the first car. We will drive for three hours, and then stop and walk the rest of the way."

"Walk where?" I asked.

I thought Spock's posture slumped a bit. "I do not know; a place that we are not able to reach by car. We'll have to trust Clicker 1."

"Trust them?"

Spock nodded. "Or else face the cannibals."

"I choose Clicker 1."

* * *

Personal log:

It has been several hours since my last post, and just now the computers and sensors have broke through the planet's interferences. It will take an hour or so to pinpoint the exact location of the radio signal. Lt. Uhura, Scotty, and Chekhov are working really hard and I'm keeping an eye on the screens. At the very least, we know what side of the planet they're on. It's night on that side. I feel helpless; I have to go help them, Sulu out.

_Author's Comments:_

_That took me a while to write that, but it's all good. A lot more happened here than I intended to happen, but that's okay. I'll see you soon. Please review!_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Two words: Gene Roddenberry.

Trapped

Chapter 5: Long and Winding Road

I awoke with a start. Looking around, I saw that I was still sitting in the car by the driver's side window in the backseat. Spock sat by the other window, with Cadet Watson between us. His eyes were opened wide and posture rigid. I poked him.

"Cadet?" He didn't even twitch. Instead, Spock turned and looked inquisitively at us. I ignored him and continued attempting to snap Watson out of his stupor. "Cadet? You hear me?"

He let out a ragged gasp.

"Cadet Watson?"

A dry sob elicited from his mouth and he started to slump forward. Spock and I caught him before he could fall. We pushed him back to the seat, forcing him to lean back.

"Robert!" I almost shouted. "Wake up, Cadet, wake up." I looked up and found Spock looking at me with questioning eyes. I shrugged and gave my attention back to Watson. "Robert," I said softly, gently stroking his hair in what I hoped was a motherly fashion. It seemed to work; the cadet's posture relaxed.

"Doctor?" asked Spock.

"He's fine. Just in shock," I answered a bit distractedly, "Can't say I blame him though."

"Indeed," said Spock. He might have said more but the car stopped. The two Clickers in the front quickly got out of the car and motioned for us to do the same, clicking the whole time. I inhaled deeply, preparing myself to lug Watson out of the car, but Spock already had his arm around the cadet and was pulling him out of the car.

"Okay," I mumbled to myself, getting out of the car. When I took a breath, I felt like I inhaled water. "My God, it's humid! When did it get so humid?" I looked over to Spock to see him wrinkle his nose slightly in shock of the humidity and slightly in disgust. I walked to the other side of the car to join the rest of the group.

Clicker 3 clicked at Spock and he initiated the Vulcan mind meld. I almost laughed at watching Clicker 3's face; it looked absolutely disgusted. They broke off the mind meld and I saw Clicker 3 inhale deeply as if appreciating the wet air. I started walking closer to Spock when I tripped over something—no, someone. It was Cadet Watson sitting against the sedan. He looked miserable.

"Spock?" I asked, ignoring the cadet for now, "What did they say?"

"There is a cave not far from here. The Clickers are certain that the cave can provide us with protection from the cannibals, as it had provided protection for the species on numerous occasions."

"Why is that?"

"In the deep interior of the cave there is an air chamber only reachable through an underwater channel. There we will be safe. The cannibals cannot hold their breath long enough to make it to the chamber," replied Spock, "Clicker 3 will speak to Clicker 1 about any other arrangements."

"Other arrangements?" I eyed Spock warily.

"There is a village on route to the cave. The Clickers feel a moral responsibility to warn the village about the cannibals and possibly assist in evacuations."

"A village…full of Clickers?" I felt dumbfounded and then very stupid. Of course, there more than four Clickers on the planet, but I never dreamed of meeting more than the four I'm already, unfortunately, acquainted with.

Spock looked slightly confused at my expression. "Precisely," he confirmed. "This will not be a problem, will it?"

"No, Spock, it's just…"

"Fascinating?"

"No! Just, wow…"

&&&

Personal log:

I only have a few moments, but I must report it: We found the source of the signal! The Captain, I and some other crew members I haven't met are going to beam down as soon as Chekhov intensifies the bio-signals in our uniforms. We're bringing them home! Sulu, out

&&&

We walked silently for the most part. It wasn't that we didn't have much to talk about—we were about to see a whole village of Clickers for God's sake, but we were tired. We hadn't eaten in days and this walk might do us in. Everyone is unnaturally thin; our clothes are worn; all the men were sporting some sort of facial hair, which was sparse anyway because of stress and lack of nutrition. Spock worried me especially. He was simply colder than anyone else, so cold I thought he had hypothermia, but he showed no outward signs of fatigue or illness. Damn Vulcan, I thought to myself. It was either that line of thought or 'Oh God, I'm hungry.'

Finally Rodriguez broke the ice. "I wonder what they'll be like."

There was a slight pause, then Watson opened his mouth and I elbowed him to keep quiet. I didn't want him to ruin her good mood or, to be more accurate, her attempt of a good mood.

Finally, D'Anzi responded, "Beats me." Willis and I shrugged. Watson kind of glared at me and Spock ignored us completely. I didn't know what was up with him, but I was too tired to bug him about it. The Clickers ignored us, too, just clicking among themselves, leading the way. Although, Clicker 3 slightly hovered over Spock with what may have been concern. I sighed in frustration. Clicker 3 would know more about Spock's physiological state than the rest of us with all the mind melding between the two.

"Maybe they'll be nice," continued Rodriguez.

"I guess," answered D'Anzi.

"I'm just trying to think positive."

"I know," answered D'Anzi softly. He glanced at her. "I'll try and think positively, too. Maybe we can see some baby Clickers."

Rodriguez practically beamed at him and actually laughed in happiness at the thought. "That would be so cute! I wonder if they pets. Can you imagine a Clicker dog?"

I chose not to. D'Anzi's face was twisted in concentration. Willis looked weirded out by the thought.

"No, to be honest, I can't," said D'Anzi.

She laughed again. I felt a bit lighter. Spock looked at her, too, and his expression looked softer, until he saw that Watson was about to make a snarky remark. He lightly tapped the cadet and his no nonsense, deadpan expression was enough to convince Watson to keep his mouth shut. After all, no one, not even Spock, had the heart to damper Rodriguez's contagious good mood.

Rodriguez, thankfully oblivious to Watson, continued on, "I wonder if the Clickers take care of their elderly."

"What? You want to see some old, shriveled up, granny Clicker?" asked D'Anzi.

"Old people can be cute, too," said Rodriguez.

"It depends on the old person," joined in Willis.

"Yeah," Rodriguez agreed.

"If you met my grandparents, I think you would change your mind about old people," said D'Anzi, "I mean, loud and obnoxious to the point where it's a vice."

"Well, I guess you fit right in," joked Rodriguez, "I've seen your family, and you with your family. My God, what a sight."

"You two knew each other before the Enterprise?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, he convinced me to enlist," she answered.

"It's nice enlisting with someone you know," added D'Anzi.

"Which means he's just a chicken."

"Hey, I'm with D'Anzi. It is nice going through it with someone you know. Or else you get stuck hanging out with a drunken moron all the time," I said.

Everyone laughed, except Spock and me. If only they knew, I thought, that the drunken moron was the captain himself. At least Spock knew, and if he were human he would have smiled at my comment instead of…whatever Vulcans usually do when they hear something funny, which wasn't much.

Clicker 3 lightly grabbed Spock's shoulder and made some clicking sound. Spock held up his hand and performed a mind meld and attempted to walk forward at the same time. But it wasn't happening. So I, being the good doctor I am, tapped the other Clickers on the shoulder—they felt very slimy—and motioned to Clicker 3 and Spock and tried to convey that we should stop, too, through exaggerated hand motions and body language. Two of the Clickers stayed and Clicker 1 went on ahead. I didn't have the energy to stop him.

When the mind meld ended Spock looked at us curiously and then, maybe, looked in the slightest way embarrassed. My suspicions were confirmed when he began to speak.

"You did not need to wait for us; we would have met you later."

"Yeah right," I snorted, "Spock, you're really sick, even though you don't look like it or act like it-"

"Because I cannot afford to be 'sick,'" interrupted Spock, staring at me. Then he addressed the rest of them, "The village is only a few minutes away. Clicker 1 will gather the villagers and they will meet us at the gate of the village. It is only a few hundred meters off the trail to the cave."

"A few hundred meters? Can't they come to us?" I asked, exhausted.

But Clicker 3 already answered that question when he or she clicked loudly and motioned for us to follow. "Damn it," I muttered. Spock looked at me and then assessed the rest of the starved, weary crew. He went to Clicker 3 and initiated a mind meld. I saw the Clicker nod, which really surprised me. I've never seen the Clickers do anything remotely human before. Spock broke it off, and came back to us.

"We will wait here," he said as he sat down, knees drawn up.

Everyone smiled in relief and sat down on the damp trail.

"Thanks, Spock," I said, completely grateful. He nodded to me and I noticed that his arms had wrapped around his body. I wondered if he noticed it. "So," I said quietly to him, making sure the rest of the quietly chattering crew couldn't hear, "You can just stop being sick?"

"I can ignore it," answered Spock just as quietly. "I control my mind."

"And therefore whether or not you feel the symptoms?" I asked.

"In a way. Any sort of pain is all in the mind."

"Control the mind, control the pain," I supplied.

"Precisely."

"Does it ever get to be much?"

He didn't get a chance to answer. I didn't need special Vulcan hearing to hear the approaching and unfamiliar clicks. "Oh my…" I couldn't even finish. I was used to seeing Clickers 1, 2, 3, and 4. But that didn't prepare me for this sight, because there were more than four Clickers walking toward us. Clickers were everywhere, clicking sounds I haven't heard our Clickers click. With the moist air, I felt like I was underwater surrounded by a pod of dolphins. And there were Clickers of different sizes, too, their young. The younger Clickers vaguely resembled Earth species in that the youngsters had bigger eyes and even smaller mouths; in short, they looked cuter than the older Clickers. However, at first glance I couldn't tell the difference between the genders.

"Fascinating," I heard Spock murmur. I had to agree. The whole experience was extraordinarily surreal. We stood up to see the Clickers more clearly. Soon, it became clear to me that the Clickers we knew were leading the group.

"Oh my God," mouthed somebody. I wasn't sure who said it. All I knew was that I could hardly speak. They were coming closer. The group behind Clickers 1, 2, 3, and 4 started huddling more tightly together as they approached us. I involuntarily took a step back, lost for a moment in the world of clicks and squeaks and a whole village full of Clickers walking closer to us.

Then, why I don't know, Spock took a step forward. I wouldn't have noticed the tiny movement, if he hadn't been so still besides me a moment ago. "Spock!" I whispered urgently. "What? What are you…?"

Spock ignored me, focused on the Clickers. His head was tilted slightly, as if he was curious instead of petrified at scene before him. Then he spoke.

"If there were only a way to communicate with the Clickers other than touch telepathy," he muttered. He didn't say anything else. D'Anzi stepped up behind him, followed by Rodriguez. Our Clickers approached us; the rest, thankfully, waited a little ways back. Clicker 3 and Spock began a mind meld.

I scooted closer to D'Anzi and let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. "Oh my…"

"Breathe, Dr. McCoy," said D'Anzi, "In and out. Inhale, Exhale."

Surprisingly, the advice worked. After a few breaths I felt better, calmer even. "I don't think they're going to hurt us," I said. My own voice sounded different. The various pitches of clicks echoed restlessly in the back of my mind; the moist air engulfed me; aliens, dozens upon dozens of aliens looked at me, and I stared back. It was surreal, dreamlike. I wished I were hallucinating the whole thing.

"I don't think so, either," said D'Anzi, "They seem, alright. I guess."

Rodriguez nodded numbly. "I'm so tired," she murmured.

"Me too," piped in Willis who was still standing behind me along with Watson.

"I don't want to get any closer to them than I have to," muttered Watson. No one disagreed. Not even the Clickers it seemed.

"Under different circumstances," I said, "This would almost be 'fascinating.'"

"Agreed," said D'Anzi. We never looked at each other while we spoke quietly among ourselves waiting for Spock and Clicker 3 to finish the mind meld. We were all looking at the Clickers. They were all looking at us, clicking incessantly.

Spock suddenly appeared in our midst. No one noticed him until he spoke. "We will continue to the caves. The Clickers from the village will not harm us, or even touch us, on the way, provided that we extend the same courtesy. They are very curious of us and know that verbal communication is impossible. They may click at you or even to you, but do not expect to engage in any meaningful conversation with the Clickers. They will be told that you may talk amongst yourselves and maybe to them as well. They will not be startled or attack if you wish to speak."

At various parts of Spock's announcement, the crew stopped staring at the Clickers and paid full attention to Spock. Spock looked at for assent. We all nodded, too tired and overwhelmed to give him a 'Yes sir.' He seemed too exhausted to notice the phrase's absence.

The Clickers started leaving; Spock followed and we all followed Spock. Some Clickers slowed down to see us.

As Spock promised, there was no touching. Instead, I felt like they touching with their big, dark eyes. Their curiosity almost felt tangible and I found myself staring at the rather small Clicker staring at me. I waved at it. The Clicker, which had only four fingers I noticed, waved back. I opened my mouth wide and the Clicker copied me. I shut my mouth (so did the Clicker). As I looked at him or her I began to think about the age of this Clicker. A child in our world? An adolescent, maybe? All I knew was that he or she was not an adult. Not like our Clickers. Stopping that train of thought I focused on the Clicker before me. I pressed tongue against the roof of my mouth, sucked in air, and let my tongue snap down in a loud _click_.

The Clicker's eyes impossibly grew large and several other Clickers turned to stare. I almost stopped in my tracks at the sudden attention, but somehow I kept moving forward, following the Clickers in front of me and ignoring the ones who turned back to stare.

"Sorry," I mumbled awkwardly. The small Clicker clicked something at me. I shook my head and ignored him or her.

"Doctor," said Spock, suddenly beside me, "May I ask-"

"No," I interrupted. "Don't. Even doctors are allowed to have a long day."

"Indeed."

"Indeed is right," I grumbled. I looked at Spock and tried to ignore his hollow face. "What do you think of this?"

"This? Can you specify, Doctor?"

"This…our situation," I clarified, "It's mind boggling."

"Indeed," said Spock, looking straight ahead.

I figured that was as much of an answer I was going to get. I wasn't about to play word games with Spock, not now. He was sick. I was sick. We all were sick. And if we wanted to live long enough to talk about how we evaded alien cannibals, we needed the Enterprise.

"I don't know how we are walking," I said, "Something in the water maybe. The water is more nutritious than ours."

Spock didn't answer. I guess he didn't have anything to say. Both of us ignored the curious Clickers surrounding us, my curiosity long forgotten. I didn't know about Spock. He was very quiet. For all our sakes' I hoped that the cave was near.

"Dr. McCoy! Mr. Spock!" cried out a crew member. Both of us turned. It was Cadet Willis looking worriedly at her fellow, swaying cadet. Even more Clickers looked at us now. "He started swaying," she cried unnecessarily, "I don't think he's going to make it." Spock and I walked toward them against the flow of traffic until we reached the cadets. D'Anzi and Rodriguez followed us. "Hold him up!" I yelled, "And walk him with the crowd." Spock and D'Anzi undertook this task. I barely noticed Clicker 3 watching us with what may have been concern.

I checked his pulse; it was weak. I looked closely at his gaunt face and lifted an eyelid off the eye, letting the cool, mist-like air rest on his eye. He attempted to blink. I shook my head. "He needs food and water. He needs rest," I said. I felt his forehead. It was what I expected, a bit cooler than normal, but not at a dangerous level. "He might be sick," I continued. "His body may have been trying to fight off a virus before this, this trip and he can hardly fight back. Maybe."

Spock looked at me intently and then looked at the cadet he half carrying. Cadet Watson was trying to walk, but without Spock and D'Anzi, he would have fallen far behind. "Perhaps," said Spock, "If he forgot…"

"He can't forget hunger, Spock," I gritted between my teeth. Spock ignored me and spread his long fingers across the cadet's face, apparently trying to start a mind meld. I was about to argue, but then Clickers 3 and 4 appeared behind Spock and Watson and helped support them with D'Anzi as they walked and, now, mind melded.

"What can Spock do?" I asked to no one in particular. No one answered. Willis looked on the brink of tears. Suddenly, Spock broke off the mind meld. Watson stood up on his own and started walking without any assistance. The Clickers let him go. I looked at him in astonishment. "How?" was the only word I could manage.

"I don't know," said Watson, "It's like he absorbed it. Or pushed it away in the back of my mind or something. It felt weird."

"I bet." I looked at Spock. He was panting, but he was strong enough to walk on his own, it seemed. I fell back to Spock. "Are you alright?"

"I am fine, Doctor," he said, voice quieter than usual, "His weakness is forgotten temporarily."

"How long?"

Spock didn't answer. I guess he didn't know. Clicker 3 tapped on Spock's shoulder and pointed ahead. Spock looked at me, no expression, no sign of the weakness or fatigue he was no doubt feeling.

"Are we here?" I asked.

Spock nodded.

* * *

_Sorry it took a while, and sorry this is a filler. I tried to make it an interesting filler, though. No, the other Clickers aren't important to the story; I thought it would be fun and make walking to the cave a bit more interesting. _

_Oh, by the way, please review and tell me how I'm doing. Reviews light up my day. (And especially tell me of typos in this chapter, I didn't edit it as well as I should...)  
_


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: See previous chapters

Trapped

Chapter 6: Where art thou, Jim?

"Are we here?" I asked.

Spock nodded. I felt like I was looking more toward a hole than a cave. The dark, exotic vegetation that had surrounded us throughout the trail became denser ahead of us, and in the midst of the thickening plants was an opening at the base of, well, the closest I could figure, of an oak tree like, giant roots disappeared in darkness. I swallowed.

The Clickers in front of us started descending down the cave as if it was a stairwell. Some Clickers gripped the edge of the cave wall for support, but all them, quite comfortably, disappeared in the mouth of the cave. I looked to Spock, and noticed the rest of the crew looking to Spock as well. We walked; we never hesitated; we followed Spock to the base of the cave. Clicker 3, who was in front of us, glanced back at us, but no one acknowledged the Clicker. We descended deeper into the cave. The wet mud stuck to our boots and the wet air stuck on everything else. It was colder, too, as the last wisps of light faded away, leaving us in a shroud of darkness. I grabbed Spock's shoulder as it got darker and felt hands grip mine. As far as I could tell, Spock didn't touch anyone, relying on his Vulcan ears to navigate in the darkness. We never said a word. The Clickers hardly clicked to each other. The soft pitter-patter of footfalls was the only resounding sound in the darkness.

Suddenly, it stopped. I sensed the Clickers in front of us stopping and we stopped, too. Then I felt Spock's shoulder rise as if raising his hand. He must have been mind melding with Clicker 3. After a time I felt his shoulder relax, and I heard him shift in the cave; he was turning around. He grabbed my arm and led me aside. I heard the rest of the crew follow us.

"We are here," his voice was very quiet, "at the underground water tunnel that will lead to the air chamber. The Clickers will help you swim through the tunnel. They will help you to create an air sac to ease the journey for you, and I will make you temporarily forget your weakness through a mind meld, not unlike the one I performed on Cadet Watson. You will have mental control over your physical body, for a while."

"Sir," I heard D'Anzi say, "How will you swim through the tunnel?"

"I will not be joining you," answered Spock. Everyone gasped silently. I knew we looked just like we did at the warehouse when Spock told us the cannibals were coming.

"Spock?" I choked out, not really believing him.

"Someone will have to wait for the Captain," shrugged Spock nonchalantly, "How will he know to look here?"

No one said a word.

"Mr. Spock?" whispered Willis after a while, "What if the cannibals…get you?"

"I have already thought of that scenario. I will scatter pieces of clothing around the mouth of the cave and in the immediate interior," he said, "Clicker 4 will aid you from this point on." He paused meaningfully, and at that point I wish I could have seen his expression, but it was too dark. "As Commander it is my responsibility to keep you safe, even if it means that I cannot fulfill that role as admirably as others." His voice now started to sound fuller and more determined. "I will keep you safe and together, even I am not there personally to ensure it."

Someone stepped forward. "Mr. Spock," said D'Anzi, "it _is_ honor serving under you and the Captain."

Spock didn't say anything, but I thought I saw him nod. Maybe D'Anzi did, too, because he didn't say anything. Or maybe, no words needed to be uttered anyway.

"Shall we proceed?" said Spock after a while, breaking up the silence. He started walking and we followed the sound of his footsteps. I noticed that there were fewer Clickers around. Probably got a head start during Spock's speech. "Form a line," ordered Spock, "I know it is too dark to see, but follow the sound of my voice and try to stand in front of me."

We all formed a line; I was last. I wanted to be last. I sensed there was something Spock wasn't telling everyone, and I was determined to find out what.

As I waited, I heard Spock mutter something; he was probably performing the mind meld right now. I couldn't see what else was going on. The line moved forward and I had no way of knowing whether or not the crew had reached the tunnel or was already swimming or if they had reached the air chamber. I heard splashes in the water, but was it our crew? I had to trust Spock that they were all right, and Spock had to trust the Clickers. It made me feel uneasy.

Finally, I was second in line. In front of me, the last crew member spoke. "Mr. Spock, I'm sorry," said Watson, "I was out of line."

"An apology at this very moment is very illogical and of little use to me," replied Spock. I grunted a bit, pretending that something got stuck in my throat. "However, I accept your apology," he added.

Spock completed the mind meld (I don't know why Watson needed two, but oh well) and soon, I felt frigid fingers probing my face.

"Spock," I said, "Wait." The cold appendages left my face. "Spock, would you even survive if you were pushed all the way through with enough oxygen?"

"No, I would not," answered Spock solemnly. "The Clickers will push the crew through the tunnel with a small air sac surrounding the crew and Clickers alike."

"But you can't stand that?" I asked, "It's too cold?"

"The water is intolerable to me in my present condition."

Somehow, I knew that all along. Spock had hypothermia and in his severely malnourished state…He was going to die. Vulcans had evolved to endure a hot, dry desert, not this cold wetland; this was too much for him to endure.

"I'm going with you," I said. I didn't have to see him to know that he probably raised not one, but two eyebrows.

"Dr. McCoy, that is completely illogical," argued Spock.

"No, my job is to keep you healthy," I said firmly, "I know there's not much I can do for you and no doubt you're doing the best you can, but Spock, I can't let you die alone." I knew I could talk like that to Spock without freaking him out. He had probably thought about this a lot. "And no," I added, "No amount of logic crap you pull will make me change my mind."

There was a long stretch of silence as Spock thought. Then, whether Spock believed me or he was too tired to argue, he said, "Then, let's return to mouth of the cave."

I grinned to myself. I had never won an argument with Spock so easily, but then again, neither of us has ever been starved and trapped on an alien planet together.

We backtracked and walked in silence again; soon wisps of light danced around the cave walls and floor. I thought of Jim and the Enterprise, and how our very lives depended on their coming to our rescue. I knew Jim wouldn't stop until he found bodies. And I really hoped that he would find live bodies.

We reached the mouth of the cave and sat down, resting. Spock's chin had rested on his knees, his arms wound around himself tightly; another reminder that he would have died if he had attempted to swim the underwater tunnel. I sighed slightly and put my hand on his shoulder, hoping he would understand the small gesture of comfort. He didn't shrug it off.

From the interior of the cave, I heard clicking. We both turned and saw Clicker 3 approaching. He or she sat down next to us, not asking Spock for a mind meld or anything. Clicker 3 just sat silently with us.

"So," I said, removing my hand, "How long do you think it'll be before the Enterprise picks up our signal?"

"I do not believe that the Enterprise has the capacity to pick up our bio-signals. However, they should have already picked up the radio frequencies."

"Do you think they're already on the planet?"

"Only if they had a sophisticated, reliable means of beaming back. That is the most logical course of action."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. We all sat in silence, each lost his (or her) own thoughts. I looked at the dark vegetation around me. All the plants were a dark blue, green, or purple color. I vaguely wondered at the reason for the dark colors, wondering if this planet's sun's rays emitted a strange light or something. The trail and the mouth of the cave were the only clearings in this forest. I looked up; the sky was dim, but it was not that close to nightfall. I felt as though it should be.

Clicker 3 tensed. The Clicker stood up and listened. Spock tensed in response to Clicker 3. His ears strained to hear anything unusual. He stood up and stepped closer to the Clicker, and then I heard what they must have heard.

Grunting. Haggard Breaths. Strange, animalistic cries. Crushed vegetation. Running.

I swallowed. "The cannibals?" I didn't want to believe it was true. I didn't want to see Spock nod. I didn't want to see Spock rip off part of his clothing and lay it near the mouth of the cave so that Jim could find the rest of the crew in case…I didn't want to know that the cannibals found us before Jim.

But it happened anyway.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_First off, in case anyone is unsure of Spock's abilities as far as mind melding is concerned, he can make others forget or change their way of thinking for a while. As far as I've seen and remembered he's done so twice in the original series. If you to know which episodes (I think they're available on YouTube and IMDB), just message me._

_I can't wait for the next chapter!! So review and motivate me to upload it, because it's already written and in the process of personal scrutiny and editing. REVIEW! Please…?_


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See previous chapters

Trapped:

Chapter 7: The Suspense is Killing Me

"Oh God," I murmured. They were coming, toward us; the cannibals were here. Their bodies were stout, about a head shorter than me. Their heads were bald, with a sickly mucus-like slime covering their heads and the rest of their bodies. Their skin was a dark gray color. On their face, two, small eyes sat close together above a rather large triple nostril nose. I tried not to notice their wide mouths and sharp, blue teeth as they breathed heavily in front of us (probably trying to figure out what Spock and I were). They wore black tunics, all the same design. It sickened me to see how organized these creatures were when it came to hunting and cannibalism. With thick arms holding sharp spears and heavy clubs, I instinctively backed away. Four pairs of curious eyes followed the movement.

"They're going to kill us," I breathed. I wondered where our phasers were. Did we take them with us in the beginning of this supposedly peaceful scientific expedition?

The cannibals paused at mouth of the cave, standing several feet before us. "They have never encountered a species like ours before," said Spock. I think he was trying to calm me down.

"And what happens when they get over the shock?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the little gray monsters in front of us.

"We will have to fight back," answered Spock as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, of course," I bit back. The cannibals watched the exchange, perhaps amused, wary, I don't know. Those beady eyes didn't tell me anything.

Spock kept his steely gaze trained on the cannibals, silently daring them to come closer. With absolutely no expression on his face, he looked a lot more intimidating than the cold, starving Vulcan moments before. The cannibals kept their distance. Eyeing Spock and I and occasionally sparing a glance for Clicker 3, they kept silent, as if telepathically debating whether or not they should attack and eat us.

In some small part of my mind, I felt bad for Clicker 3, because I knew the cannibals weren't afraid of him or her. But what amazed me was that Clicker 3 stayed with us. Number 3 was going to help us fight off the cannibals, even though most likely he (or she) would die.

Then, the cannibals took a step forward. I took a step back, but Spock didn't move. Clicker 3 almost took a step back, but decided to follow Spock's example and stay immobile. "Dr. McCoy," said Spock evenly, "Take one step forward."

"What?"

"Retrace the last step you took."

I did so. The cannibals backed up a step. I smiled in relief. The cannibals stared at us and then collectively took a step forward. We didn't move. They took another step. I gulped, but didn't move. Clicker 3 was starting to get agitated, but Spock looked no different. They took steps toward us and I tried very, very hard not to notice the shrinking gap between us. Nothing happened for ten seconds. Then they started walking toward us, no pauses, no hesitation.

"Spock!" I cried. I took a couple of steps back, as did Clicker 3. Finally Spock also moved backward, but the cannibals full out ran toward us. A cannibal came straight for me and swung his club. I jumped back and fell backwards. Another swing of the club coming for my face. Feeling a surge of adrenaline, I rolled to my side and quickly stood up. Two cannibals had engaged Spock, who had just snatched a club out of one cannibal's hands and smashed his (or her) head. The cannibal shook it off as the other ran toward him with the spear…

And my cannibals kicked my legs out from under me. Seeing the cannibal with the nasty pointed teeth, gave me a new adrenaline rush and I scooted back until I had enough room to stand up. I ran toward the shrub tree, found a dead branch and yanked it off with a loud crack that slowed the cannibal down.

I saw that Clicker 3 had also grabbed a dead branch conveniently located on the ground and was trying to fend off a cannibal with a spear. Clicker 3 swung wildly in the air, forcing the cannibal to keep his (or her) distance, but all it took was one well place jab between the Clicker's flailing arms.

Hearing the scuttle of feet moving toward me, I swung the branch as hard as I could horizontally. I surprised myself by making contact. The cannibal surprised me by getting right back up. "Oh shit," I groaned.

I spared a glance to Spock. He was against the trunk of the tree shrub, but still adeptly blocking every blow that the cannibals threw at him. He needed a break, soon.

I focused again on my cannibal and shifted my position while facing him (or her), forcing the cannibal to move shift also, until its back was facing the cave. I yelled wildly, spastically swinging the branch around my body and running straight toward the cannibal, forcing the cannibal backwards, toward the mouth of the cave. I swung hard, pretending the cannibal's head was a baseball, and with a sickening crack felt the branch connect with the head and slammed the cannibal in the a tree trunk.

"McCoy!" Spock shouted. Someone hit me hard in the ribs, and I fell pitifully on the wet ground, heaving. I rolled over and saw a cannibal holding a club standing over me. For a moment I was stunned.

"Stand up, Doctor!" Spock yelled. I heard him grunt in pain. Then I heard Clicker 3 squeak. The cannibal above me raised its club to deliver the final blow. "NO!" I shouted, making the cannibal pause long enough for me to get up and side step out of swinging range. The other cannibal that I had smashed into the tree was also walking toward me. It scared me to note that they were sturdier than Vulcans. Oh God, they were getting closer.

Spock just came out of nowhere and swung his club around to hit both cannibals and make their heads bang together. I heard another crack. Spock and I turned to see Clicker 3 beating a cannibal on the ground with a branch, but the cannibal slowly rose and slashed at Clicker 3 with the spear. "Doctor," whispered Spock urgently. I tore myself away from Clicker 3's fight (possibly for life?) and turned to see three menacing cannibals coming at us again. Spock and I swung simultaneously and hit two cannibals. The third one missed me and scratched at Spock's shoulder with his spear. Spock flinched, but had no time to ponder the injury as the other two cannibals joined their comrade.

"I think they're moving slower," I said to myself.

"Indeed. They are." And they were, but it wasn't much use to us. They came at us with everything they had. Swinging and stabbing madly at us. Spock and I just backed up, not even trying to block the blows. It was all we could do. My adrenaline rush was wearing off. Spock swung his club randomly and hit a cannibal, but we still had two more coming at us. We were both panting.

"Spock," I wheezed, "I'm sorry." Suddenly, I was acutely aware of one of the cannibals raising a spear and thrusting it to my heart…or what would have been my heart. Spock had moved in front of the spear and took the stab.

"Spock?" I choked. He fell to the ground. He was barely breathing, almost as if taking the minimal amount of breaths to keep alive. I couldn't focus on him; I had to keep moving backwards, away from Spock. No, I couldn't just leave him. He gave his life for me. The least I could do was stand by his side and try to comfort him as he lay dying.

I swung feebly, my strength nearly gone. The cannibals had instinctively backed up at the swing, giving me enough time to reach Spock and check his vitals. Barely, barely alive. He was fighting with everything he had, and I feared it wouldn't be enough. The cannibals approached us again, weapons ready. They slowed, as if to enjoy the slaughter.

Then, a miracle.

"BONES! BONES! SPOCK!"

It was Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise with a rescue party armed with fully loaded phasers. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

And the cannibals stopped cold in their tracks, with their triple nostrils flaring at the Captain and his crew. "Holy crap," uttered Kirk.

"Spock," I whispered. I gulped, but the frog in my throat didn't budge. "Spock, hang on. Please. I know you're tired, but hang on a little bit longer." Spock suddenly stopped breathing. "No! Spock! Hang on!" I lay him down flat on the ground, and felt for his pulse. It was weak, but there. Ignoring that for now, I pinched his nose and breathed for him, seeing his chest rise and fall in my peripheral vision. Nothing changed. I breathed again for him, and then turned my head to the side to watch for his chest rising and feel for his breathing. In this position, I had a perfect view of Jim. He was trying to move toward us, but the three cannibals stood in the way. I felt nothing from Spock and so I turned my head to give him another breath. I heard Jim say, "Shoot to kill!" (So much for the Prime Directive.) I almost lost Spock's pulse, so I began chest compressions, hoping that his Vulcan anatomy would respond to CPR. I heard the phaser fire and bodies fall to the ground. Still I had no time to dwell on this, as I continued CPR on Spock, alternating breathing and chest compressions.

"Bones!" Jim shouted from right beside me. Normally I would have yelled back some smart remark, but…Spock was dying.

"Help Clicker 3," I said during chest compressions.

"Who?" he asked frantically, "Oh God, Bones, you and Spock—what happened? You're both emaciated."

I breathed for Spock, seeing his chest rise and fall, refusing to believe he was dead. "Clicker 3 was fighting the other cannibal," I gasped.

"Let me," said Jim gently. "Go back to the ship."

"No." I breathed again for Spock.

Jim pushed me aside and started chest compressions. "Come on, Spock." He looked to me before breathing for Spock. After two breaths, he grunted, "I got this."

I fell on my back, completely and utterly exhausted. "Jim," I whispered, "The rest are in the cave…underwater tunnel…air chamber."

"Kirk to Enterprise…" And I heard nothing.

* * *

_I bet the suspense is killing you, too. It was killing me as I wrote it. I've waited so long to write this chapter! (Yes I am aware that Spock and McCoy are starving and weak, but being eaten does not seem like a great way to go, especially when they still have hope in the Enterprise, plus the water thing and how much more nutritious their water is than ours will be explained next chapter)_

_I am really sorry about the wait. I made to upload it last week, but between Mardi Gras, college, and a new job...Well, it's exciting and stressful at the same time. Even though exams are coming up, I will try really hard to update faster next time. I'm sorry.  
_

_Well, either one or two more chapters left to go. Please review! Reviews persuade me to update faster! (I want to break fifty reviews just for the hell of it)._


	8. Chapter 8

So sorry it took so long! "(1)" refers to part of the Author's Comments at the end. I don't care when you read it, but it is helpful to read it.

Trapped

Chapter 8: Home Sweet Home

I was aware of one thing and one thing only…I was _starving_! Practically famished! My God, all I wanted was food!

I opened my eyes and sat straight up, not really taking in my surroundings, I was too hungry for such trivial matters. My breaths came out as gasps and I looked around, not noticing anything that wasn't food.

"Food…" I moaned. My voice sounded weaker than I thought it would. "So hungry…"

"Dr. McCoy," a female voice said, "You're awake!" It was Nurse Chapel.

"Of course, I'm awake!" I snarled, "And I'm damn hungry!"

She grinned. I don't know why, why is it so funny that I'm so hungry…. Then I noticed her brown eyes flickering to the small table right next to my bed. Oh. There was soup on the table. I sheepishly and awkwardly smiled at her, ignoring the feeling of idiocy and focusing on the soup. I didn't care what kind of soup it was; God I've never been this hungry. I picked up the soup and the spoon and ate my soup rather nosily.

"Thanks," I said between sips or is it bites? I don't know. It doesn't matter. This soup is divine.

"You're very welcome," said Nurse Chapel, smiling, "It's good to have you back, Doctor." Her eyes widened as if she remembered something. "Oh, I forgot! The captain said to call him when you woke up. I'll be right back." With that, she left, leaving me to my soup.

I glanced around again, actually registering what I was seeing. I was in the sickbay, of course, and I saw I wasn't the only occupant here. In the beds across from me there was Cadet Watson, Cadet Willis…

Then it hit me. What happened. Why I was here. I searched more furtively around the room with my eyes, seeing that Rodriguez and D'Anzi were okay, but no sight of Clicker 3 and-

I drank the last bit of soup and slowly swung my legs over the side of the bed and cautiously stood up. My legs shook with the effort. I ignored the shaking and made baby steps to the other part of sickbay. The other part reserved for critical patients and, maybe, only if necessary, the morgue. The cadets and the older crewmen (and woman) were sleeping. I saw empty plates next to their tables, and I felt better knowing that they ate something. Still I walked across the room, slowly. I was surprised by my progress until I heard Nurse Chapel come in from behind me.

"Dr. McCoy! You of all people should—"

"Where's Mr. Spock?" I asked quietly, interrupting her. She fell silent. My heart dropped like a piece of lead and the wind whooshed out of me. I swallowed hard. "He's not…" I could hardly say it. "He's not dead, is he?"

There was no response. I turned to face her. She shrugged. I didn't know what that meant, so I continued my way the ICU version of the sickbay.

"Doctor," she muttered, "He's…uh, not quite—" I ignored her and approached the door. I heard the familiar hiss and walked inside. This room was dimmer and much quieter. Only the mechanical hum of instruments could be heard. There weren't many beds, but I found one of them occupied.

I saw Spock, not moving on one of the beds. I moved closer and looked at his vitals on the panel above his head. They were pitifully low, but they were there. I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Then I looked at Spock. His face was terribly sunken in, but it was clear, as if someone had given him a shave or something. He had dark circles under his eyes. The rest of his body was covered in heated blankets.

"Leonard," said Nurse Chapel. She had followed me in. "Don't be too hopeful. We almost lost him, then his vitals seemed to stabilize…"

"But?"

"He's getting worse; he's deteriorating. We had to shock his heart back to life, and that's when his vitals seemed okay, given…well, his condition. But he's been slowly deteriorating."

"So, it's not likely he's going to make it," I said somberly. I touched his hand; it was ice cold, despite the heated blankets surrounding him. "Geez, Spock," I muttered.

Then, I walked back to my bed with Nurse Chapel's help. She helped me situate myself in bed. By that time, Jim Kirk had walked in sickbay. He took one look at me and his face shined with sheer excitement.

"Bones!" he greeted excitedly, "Man, it's been crazy!"

His enthusiasm was catchy; I let a smile creep on my face. "Jim, you won't believe how good it is to see you," I said warmly.

He nodded to Nurse Chapel and she left us to ourselves. "My God, I was so worried, Bones," he said. He sat on the edge of my bed and looked at me. "You look like shit." I laughed. He laughed, too.

"Jim," I said seriously, "What happened? After I passed out?"

His face fell and when he answered his voice was somber in an unlike Jim fashion. "Well, I called the Enterprise and asked them to beam you and Spock up with two security guards. Then I saw, what you guys called, the Clicker."

"Yeah, Clicker 3. How was he? Or she?"

"Fine, I guess. I couldn't tell what was fine and what was not fine. I'm telling you, Bones, I never seen anything like it."

"You're telling me."

"Right. Anyway, the Clicker was clicking really fast and was squeaking a lot and then he actually pulled my arm and led me to the cave. I called the Enterprise to beam more security down and took the remaining members, except one, with the Clicker and me." Jim paused. "It's really wet down there you know."

"I know." I knew I was ruining Jim's mood, but I couldn't help it. Nurse Chapel practically told me that Spock's going to die.

"Well, we got to the cave and the air chamber and after we swam back up we beamed up. Um, Rodriguez got a water sample and gave it to some other officers. She said the water was special or something. We beamed up Clicker 3, too, because we figured out he was bleeding and he needed help. He's actually in the transporter room now; he's getting ready to leave."

"He?"

"I don't know. He just seems easier." Jim shrugged, then leaned closer, "Did they tell you about Spock?"

I nodded. "He's deteriorating." I swallowed a lump in my throat. "It's my fault," I whispered, "He saved me, and I couldn't even help. I couldn't help anyone."

Jim patted me on the back. "You know, Spock would say something about your statement being illogical right about now."

I let out a weird sob and laugh thing. "Jim, I think I need to sleep right now." He nodded and stood up. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about anything. "Jim," I said tiredly, "Tell Clicker 3 I said thanks, for everything…" I fell asleep.

&&&

I woke up, feeling hungry, but rested. I saw breakfast on the table next to me. Scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and to my surprise, grits.

"Thanks," I said to no one in particular and dug in. The food reminded me of home, and that lifted my spirits a bit.

"Good morn-ing, Doctor Mc-Coy!" someone sang out. I looked to my left and saw Rodriguez waving at me, eating her own breakfast. D'Anzi, lying on the bed beside her, waved at me, too, but was far too busy eating to say anything.

"It is a good morning, isn't it?" said Willis quietly. Watson, beside her, nodded quietly, too quietly.

"Yeah," I muttered. I wondered if they knew about Spock. I wondered if they knew what happened when we didn't join them in the cave.

"Where were you?" bit out Watson, "You left us."

My eyes narrowed. I inhaled deeply through my nose and exhaled the same way. "I was with Spock," I said evenly, "Did the Captain tell you that?"

He was silenced immediately. The mood was solemn. I guess they were filled in.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Don't worry about it. Let me eat in peace," I said. The cadets ate quietly, Rodriguez and D'Anzi talked softly among themselves, and I tried not to think about Spock.

&&&

By that afternoon, I was sitting in my office, with the patient uniform on, and looking up the results of the mysterious alien water. And I was relatively surprised by what I found. I found various amino acids, as well as some mineral and vitamins. Admittedly, some I had never seen before, quite a few were familiar. I saw isoleucine, leucine, valine, all the B vitamins, some Vitamin D and even small traces of protein and a bit of calcium (1). No wonder why they don't eat down there. The other unknown substances in the water are what must be necessary for the species to survive. I noted, however, it did not contain any source of carbohydrates, no energy sources. "Fascinating," I muttered despite myself.

I looked up Clicker 3's condition and found out that he or she (their sexual organs made it hard to differentiate between male and female, not to mention we had nothing to compare it to) was in when they beamed Number 3 aboard. Clicker 3 had a stab wound to the shoulder, various bruises, but nothing too serious. The medical crew had no trouble healing Clicker 3. He or she had been in and out in a few hours, desperate to get home and see the rest of the Clickers. Though, Clicker 3 did stay with Spock for awhile, trying to do a mind meld and just sitting there with him.

I sighed at the thought and stood up, making my way back to my bed in sickbay. Spock was alive, but dying, as of two hours ago. He could be dead by now.

I lay down in my bed for awhile, staring at the ceiling, thinking about nothing in particular until Nurse Chapel walked in from the ICU. She looked at everyone and shrugged. I had figured out that her shrugs meant that a patient was alive, but getting worse. She made eye contact with me and walked over.

"I don't get it," she said, standing by my bed. I motioned for her to sit and she did on the edge. "He's dying. Getting worse and worse. Almost as if being weaned off of something."

"That's a weird analogy," I commented.

"You can't say that," she argued, "Didn't you see his charts?"

"Of course I did."

"Well?"

I paused. She was right. Everything about Spock was steadily decreasing, but we had made no changes to his IV and cocktail of medicine. "We need to consult a Vulcan doctor. Or any doctor familiar with Vulcans. Something is going on beneath the surface," I said finally, not really answering her question.

"Well," she said again, "If someone on board had any experience, believe me, we would have called them straight away."

"Aren't we going somewhere to pick up a diplomat?" I asked suddenly. Jim did tell me about the time limit involving Starbase 13 and how they needed a diplomat badly. To say it pissed me off is an understatement. "Couldn't there be a doctor there?"

"I don't know, Doctor," she said, "That's really pushing your luck."

"But Spock has run out of his own luck."

&&&

"Well, we'll be there in an hour," said Kirk. He was sitting on the end of my bed after arriving an hour or so after Nurse Chapel left. We were playing poker, one of those games that never got old.

"Did you tell them about your first officer?"

"Yeah, and guess what? There is a Vulcan doctor there."

I gaped openly at him. "We've been sitting here for half an hour, playing cards and just now you decide to tell me there's a Vulcan doctor on Space Station Alpha Delta?"

Jim grinned like an idiot. "Yeah."

"God dammit, Jim."

"Shouldn't you be saying something like 'Oh really! There's a doctor there?' or 'That's great news, Jim.'?"

I rolled my eyes, and he laughed at me. "You're so tense," said Jim.

"Whatever. Tell me about the doctor."

"Well, he's Vulcan, apparently really old. He's been there since the destruction of Vulcan" (he paused, here, remembering the brutality of it all) "And he is a doctor. That's all they told me. We told them that we have a dying Vulcan aboard, and they informed me that he would take a look at Spock."

I nodded, not really saying anything, but rearranging the cards in my hand. I motioned to Jim who was the dealer to give me another card as I put one back.

"Who would have thought?" I said as I picked up the card. "I think Spock's luck is finally turning around."

"Yeah, it is." Kirk put his cards down and looked at me. "You do realize that it isn't your fault, right?" I shrugged and that prompted Jim to continue. "I mean, if he doesn't make it, you have to learn to live yourself."

"He took the spear for me, Jim."

Jim picked up his cards and spoke to them. "Yeah, well, I'm one who sat in a ship away from you. I'm the one who's supposed to keep everyone safe. I failed all of you."

"The sensors weren't working right. Even Spock said so."

"That's no excuse," he said gravely, still looking at the cards. "I raise you ten credits."

"I call that raise. Anyway, Jim, it wasn't your fault."

"Then, admit it wasn't yours either. I raise ten more credits."

I looked at my cards. I had nothing good. "I fold," I said.

&&&

I really didn't want to greet the diplomat that we were bringing to Starbase 13. I stayed with Spock, making sure he was still alive when the doctor arrived. I was alone in here, except for Spock. Everyone was still confined to sickbay, but they didn't come in the ICU.

"I'm sorry, Spock." I glanced up at the monitors. "Just a little while longer, hang in there," I told him. I thought about it, our adventure with the Clickers, the journey to cave, and the cannibals. "Oh my God." I felt one tear roll down my cheek and I took a deep breath to try to control the bursting dam of hysteria as I wiped my face.

Then, I heard the hiss of the door and a knocking on the wall. "Dr. McCoy?" I heard Jim say. "Ambassador John Grimes is here, as well as Dr. Silik of Vulcan."

I looked up and immediately identified everyone. The blonde haired, slightly large human was Grimes, and the elderly Vulcan was Dr. Silik. Captain Kirk stood between them, making the unnecessary introductions. Grimes approached me first. The old Vulcan slowly made his way toward Spock, and completely ignored me.

"Dr. McCoy," said the ambassador. His voice had a condescending tone, kind of like most Vulcans I've talked to. "It's good to see how well you made out. The Captain told me all about your confinement to that hostile planet. It's a shame about your first officer, though."

I just nodded. What was I supposed to say to that?

"He wanted to meet the senior officers," explained Jim to me on the side. I nodded again.

"Doctor," said a crisp voice that had an unusual arid quality. It was the Vulcan. "I am not familiar with human medicine; I will need you to explain to me what these tubes mean."

I finally spoke. "Yes, yes of course." I opened my mouth to begin explaining, but Jim cut me off.

"Do you think you can save him?" he asked Silik.

Silik took one very long gaze at Spock before answering. "Only Mr. Spock can save himself."

"You're kidding me," I said, not caring who was in the room.

"You are not Vulcan; I do not expect you to understand. But in order to better assess Mr. Spock's condition, I need to know about your medicine and the medicine you have given him," he said nonchalantly.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and inhaled. Damn, insufferable Vulcan.

"Okay," I breathed, "Let me get you some files. His chart is on the end of the bed."

The Vulcan nodded and continued to gaze at Spock. I left the room and heard Kirk and the ambassador follow me.

After the door closed, Jim exhaled. "Wow, Spock is pleasant compared to him."

"I'll say. They're all insufferable," I grumbled.

"Gentlemen, you must look at him in a different light," said the ambassador, "His whole species nearly destroyed, planet completely gone…" He continued to babble, but I ignored him. Technically I'm not on duty, I'm still a patient. I can act as I please. "Imagine the hardships…" I really hated people like him at times like this.

"Ambassador, let me show you to your quarters," said Jim, leading away the diplomat. He glanced apologetically at me and the rest of the patients as he and Grimes walked toward the door.

After the door hissed closed, D'Anzi muttered, "Thought he'd never leave."

I didn't have anything to say to that either. I gathered the files and brought them back to the ICU and to Dr. Silik. He read them quickly, but carefully and then looked at me.

"Dr. McCoy," began Silik, his aged brown eyes boring into mine, "I realize that Spock is your patient and I must ask something of you. I wish to perform a mind meld. Ordinarily, this is neither harmful nor beneficial, but since Mr. Spock has progressed this far, I must ask you."

"Why do you have to ask me? Spock's been performing mind melds on that planet for a week! Nothing happened."

"Spock was not in a healing trance on the planet," said Silik calmly.

"A healing trance?"

"It requires a tremendous amount of concentration. If I break his concentration for whatever reason, he may become unable to heal himself and then die almost instantly. However, a mind meld will enable me to ascertain his state of mind and identify possibly needs that are not being met that are necessary for his survival. Therefore, I ask your permission."

* * *

_Dun, dun duuun! I spent an evening writing this when I should have been studying for two exams on Monday. It was fun. I needed a break from life._

_This is the second to last chapter. The next one will be the last. If you do not know what a healing trance is, just message me or send it in a review. I'm sure others much more Trekkie than I can explain it better. _

_(1) By the way, all those nutrients in the water?! I just looked up basic nutrients necessary for energy conversion, which includes all the B Vitamins. Bits of protein and calcium help them walk and move around (and in McCoy and Spock's case, help them fight). Isoleucine helps stabilize blood sugar levels and builds muscles. Leucine for all intents and purposes has the same function as Isoleucine, but instead of building muscles it repairs muscles. Valine also regulates blood sugar, helps muscle metabolism, and maintaining a nitrogen balance. I wish I could tell you more about nitrogen, but I can't. Anyway, the previous three things I named are essential amino acids and as you probably can guess, they all work together. I excluded nutrients that help hormones._

_(1) Even though there is no form of energy in the water, humans and I assume Vulcans as well have back up sources of energy stored as glycerin and fat. Vitamins are practically enzymes (or technically co-enzymes) that aid reactions in the body, and as I already stated, the B Vitamins help in energy conversions, because it's not enough that they have the stored energy. Fat and glycerin are useless if the body cannot convert it to ATP, the primary form of energy used in the cells and therefore the rest of the body. My source about the energy conversion is basic Biology 1001 or I assume in most colleges, 101. (Mine is weird, don't ask.) The vitamins and nutrients info came from __vitalhealthzone(dot)com__. It's actually pretty interesting. Feel free to do some research and point out anything wrong in my reasoning. If you find something wrong or think the nutrients were not adequate enough to enable their motions, please tell me and I will do more research to try to fix it._

_Well, I'd love to sit here and explain nutritional value to you lovely readers, but I have homework to do, so feel free to review. Scratch that, review. I need to know if you think the water was enough to make the story realistic. Any other technicalities you wish to discuss please send that along, too. _

_The next chapter starts with a twist ;)_


	9. Chapter 9

Here it is! Thought I'd do something different in this chapter. A complete line break indicates a different character's perceptive.

Special thanks to KickUpSomeDust. I have made some technical changes in this chapter. I may have to refer to you when writing another survival story, which I plan to do when exams are finished.

Glaring error: I realized that I made a big error and I didn't realize it until I was in class...I literally just had time to fix it. So, I'm sorry. Nothing essential changed, just some technicalities.

Trapped

Chapter 9: The line between life and death

It is necessary to increase body temperature. Not the whole body, just the vitals, including the broken one. It needs to be fixed. I cannot fix it unless I increase body temperature. Therefore, increasing body temperature is an absolute necessity.

The broke lung must be fixed. New tissue must be created. That is what I do. I make new tissue and increase body heat. The place before is not acceptable. Though it is a preferable place, I cannot go there. My place for the moment is here. It is not easy to stay here. I keep drifting, but I keep focus.

I make new tissue and increase body heat.

The torn muscle around it is also a concern, but the lung is more important. I need to increase white blood production and soon after antibodies. The heart needs to keep beating, but something helps. Something helps the oxygen intake, but it is not as efficient as a working lung.

I make new tissue and increase body heat.

It is hard to keep focus. It is hard, because there are no adequate energy reserves. Something unnecessary is inside me, so I use my own energy reserves instead. My energy reserves will not suffice for much longer. Soon, I will use muscle mass to make new tissue and increase body heat. I must keep doing this, because I cannot fail. If I fail, I go to that place, the place that is not acceptable. So, I make new tissue and increase body heat.

_I am Dr. Silik_

I make new tissue and increase body heat.

_I am here to help you_

Everything may still be inefficient and I will go to that place.

_Do you require more energy?_

Yes, I do.

The place is suddenly much closer. There is another presence here, a presence that is not my own. I am cold.

_The IV is full of glucose and other forms of human energy in a liquid form, but Vulcans have no need for human energy, not even a half Vulcan like yourself. You must create new tissue and increase body heat._

Silik, do you know I am dying?

_Create new tissue and increase body heat._

Do you know what it is like, knowing that you are going to die?

_If you create new tissue and increase body heat, you will not go to that place._

I am cold. Oxygen levels are dropping, despite the outside force that helps. Dr. Silik? You are a Vulcan doctor.

_I come from Vulcan, yes. [An image appears, Vulcan dissolving into a black hole. A memory accompanies, thousands of millions of Vulcans screaming in agony] Keep breathing. _

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. I am cold.

_I will give you the energy you require._

Sometimes I am hungry. It is a sufficient enough distraction. I cannot eat, but I cannot be hungry. If I am hungry, I will go to that place. I am cold. The other place is still close—I am at the border between these places.

_Dr. McCoy surely has some medicine to alleviate the hunger until you are able to eat._

I must make new tissue and increase body heat. I must increase white blood cell production.

_You must breathe. Dr. McCoy can help you breathe._

I must make new tissue and increase body heat. I must increase white blood cell production.

_You will have more energy soon._

I must make new tissue and increase body heat. I must increase white blood cell production.

()()()()()()

I have more energy. Body heat has increased. So I must make new tissue. If I make new tissue, I can breathe easier. If I breathe more easily, I will have more oxygen.

There is a soft pressure being applied externally. It is accompanied by a soft sound. I must make new tissue and increase white blood cell production.

()()()()()()

Nyota holds my hand.

()()()()()()

The lung is fixed.

_Are you ready?_

The lung is fixed. I increase antibodies instead of white blood cells. It requires much less concentration. I sense a pressure on my head. Is it Silik? Are you Silik?

_Yes. You are ready. You must awaken._

There is a barrier. I must break the barrier before I can move from this place to another place, the place where Silik comes from.

_I will help you break the barrier. You will feel pain._

Indeed, I did feel pain.

* * *

Uhura and I watched Silik murmur some words in Vulcan during last mind meld. I wasn't too sure about this. Spock was still immobile, only squeezing his already shut eyelids more tightly and relaxing them at seemingly random intervals after we fixed his medicine, about thirty six hours ago. Ever since then, he had been improving swiftly, and Silik suspected that today Spock had probably fixed his lung and the muscle surrounding the organ.

So now, they're performing a mind meld again. And all Uhura and I could do was watch. Jim wanted to be here, but his duties as captain kept him away.

Silik pulled his fingers away just as a haggard gasp escaped from Spock. There was a pause and then suddenly Spock shot straight up in bed, breathing heavily. I watched uncertainly and put my hand in front of Uhura to keep her from approaching Spock. I sensed that he would need his space, because quite frankly, the only thing he was able to keep eye contact with was his sheets.

"I will get some soup," announced Silik after a while. He left us alone. I still kept my hand in front of Uhura and motioned to her to keep quiet.

"Spock," I said softly, "Are you alright?"

Still staring at the sheets, he blinked once. He nodded at them, too, while inhaling deeply.

"Spock?" Uhura spoke up softly despite my warning.

Spock looked up at her with a blank expression on his face. He closed his eyes, inhaled again, and reopened them. He looked a lot more alert.

"I apologize for worrying you," he said to Uhura.

That was all Uhura needed to hear, and whether Spock liked it or not she jumped in the bed and embraced him tightly. Spock returned the gesture, but with less emotion. The fact that he returned the embrace spoke volumes. "You almost died," whispered Uhura. They broke the embrace, but held hands.

"I did die, Nyota," he murmured back, looking straight at her.

"Don't do it again," she said in the same soft tone.

"I second that," I said, considerably louder than the couple.

Spock looked at me, his eyes scrutinizing me. "I see you are well, Doctor."

"Yeah," I replied, "Thanks to you."

"Doctor, I was merely performing my duty as-"

"Save it, Spock, and just accept the thanks."

"But-"

"Please? For my sake, just accept the thanks." Spock didn't say anything. Uhura tried to stifle a giggle. I decided to ask him again, "Are you alright, Spock?"

Spock considered his answer carefully. "Given the past events, I am 'alright,' Doctor."

Silik returned with the soup and Uhura scooted over to give Spock room to eat. He ate in silence. Silik watched him with a critical eye. I wanted to talk to Spock, without Silik, without Uhura, and before Jim arrived.

"Excuse me," I said. Spock's eyes went to my face, but he continued eating. Everyone else turned to me. "I would like to talk the patient alone. That way we can speak in full confidence." I was really loved the whole entire Doctor-Patient Confidentially.

Uhura's stare turned into a glare, but it was short lived. She glanced back to Spock, briefly made eye contact, and left. Silik raised an eyebrow, muttered something in Vulcan, and left as well.

"Spock, really," I said to Spock, who really never stopped eating, "Are you okay? Nurse Chapel said they shocked your heart back to life."

Spock put the soup on the bedside table next to him. He looked at me. "I did die, Doctor. I was weak, too weak to sustain my trance. It is a weakness that will never occur again."

"Spock. Don't beat yourself up. You died!" I didn't realize my words had become a shout.

"Is death so unnatural?"

"Death is permanent," I said, "Once you really die, you can never come back. It's irreversible."

Spock reflected on that for a while. "You are correct. But even still, death hardly warrants an emotional response."

"I'm a doctor. And as a doctor, watching what you and the others suffered was like going through the nine circles of hell." He didn't say anything, but hunger got the better of him so he picked up his soup and started eating it again. "Spock, wasn't it…difficult to watch us and to be unable to help us in any way?"

He didn't answer immediately. "Indeed. It was difficult, but that was unimportant and still is unimportant. That is the difference between humans and Vulcans, Doctor. We do not allow emotions to affect decision making processes. For humans, it is natural."

"Spock, you can't control everything!"

"If it is necessary, I must."

"But you can't! You died!" My God, Spock was infuriating. But to my surprise, he didn't say anything. He continued eating his soup. At one point, he stopped, looked at the bowl, and put it back on the table.

"I did die." His voice was a whisper. "It was fascinating, almost preferable."

"I'm sorry," I said after a while, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry I let it get this bad. I'm sorry that you became sick and that…"

Spock tilted his head, his eyes studying me. "It is no fault of yours, Dr. McCoy."

I swallowed. I realized that was I needed to hear. Then I realized something else. "Spock?"

"Yes?"

"The crew, in the cave? They're okay. They got out alright."

Spock nodded. He kept his face neutral, but his eyes became softer.

"It wasn't your fault. None of this. The cannibals, the starving thing. None of it. You saved us."

"Thank you." I thought, for a nanosecond, that the smallest, shortest smile flickered across Spock's face.

* * *

_Whoo! Finished! I thought about adding an epilogue, but decided against it. It doesn't really need one. (If you wanted to know, they all lived happily ever after until the next mission, whatever that is)_

_In case anyone seriously misunderstood or didn't understand, the beginning was Spock's POV while he's in the healing trance. Also, that was my first try at stream of consciousness (a literary technique that tries to follow a character's consciousness. Some really good examples of this are James Joyce's _The Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man_ and_ Ulysses_, and for those more Southern inclined, William Faulkner's _As I Lay Dying_.) You won't believe how weirdly easy and hard it is to write stream of consciousness, especially for a half Vulcan. Anyway, I thought that was only way to really get inside Spock's head whilst in the trance. (I can't bring myself to write in his POV while he's fully conscious and alert. To me logic is overrated.) I apologize for the confusion and my poor stream of consciousness skills. If it's written correctly, it can be an awesome technique. I know Spock's mind didn't sound too logical, but he's trying to rebuild tissue and fight for his life. I don't think he's concerned that his thoughts may be illogical._

_Don't ask me what Vulcans use for energy, I have no flipping clue. But if Vulcans are from a different solar system, why should they use ATP just because we do and most life on Earth does? I don't know why alien life should be in any way, shape or form similar to our own. Thus, the Clickers and their cool not eating thing._

_Thank you so much for sticking with me to the end! Please review and tell me how you liked it! Please? Please! Thanks again and God bless!_


End file.
